


Simple Life

by Miss_Von_Cheese



Series: Rhy & Pu-rat-tu [3]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: Agron is adorable to everyone, Already, Becoming an old couple, Did I say, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, courting, farm life, goat included
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 12:09:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17080097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Von_Cheese/pseuds/Miss_Von_Cheese
Summary: “Oh!” familiar voice exclaimed. “My eyes, my eyes!”Nasir raised an eyebrow as Agron looked at him, feigning awe, a hand clutching his own chest like an old man having a stroke. The German grinned and kept his act, “Dark haired beauty, do you have a name? I am but blinded by such precious sight!”Nasir felt himself blush and shook his head with an embarrassed smirk. “What is going on with you, you fool?”He was used to Agron's charming attentions but never before had his companion praised him so loud in front of such a wide audience.





	Simple Life

**Author's Note:**

> Me : Ok I'm done writing Nagron smut and feels now, I have said what I had to say. That's enough.  
> Also me: Ok but. Have you ever considered... domestic fluff?

On the port of the bright city of Telo Martius, merchants gave Nasir strange looks as he walked between their stands. He did not look rich, his rather old clothes making him seem like he was without coin, and to be fair the appearance of his garments held no importance when he remained at the farm. Poorly dressed with layers of clothes that could each tell a different story, cheeks untouched by razor for a few days, he still walked around with the assurance of a free man, confusing southern Gauls. The port remained his favorite place of the city for its cosmopolitan crowd.

Most of the time now, Nasir and Agron, the man who held his heart, lived in a small but cosy farm on the side of the hill that protected the city. On occasions they would come down to buy what they needed, trade goods or sell some of their products, then retreat to the safety of their haven. A simple life, way too simple in comparison to what Agron had always wanted and yet, they had grown accustomed to their tranquil life faster than they could imagine. Peace and absence of fear were quite comfortable after a while.

The city was not unpleasant, cradled between the natural protections of seashore and impressive hill, it was relatively peaceful, but still open to the world. They knew if troubles ever arose in Gallia -and how could they not with those fucking Gauls?-, they could still quickly find a way out of the country. The port was buzzing with noises, smells, travelers and merchants from all over Mediterranea and beyond, masters and slaves. It was the right place to meet people and make successful business.

Nasir was present today in hope of finding new clothes, despite Agron's insistence that clothes did not suit him anyway, and that on the hill nothing prevented him from being in a state of constant nakedness like a beautiful satyr of the woods. Nasir would have agreed if he did not have several goats to tend to, and feared that stubborn horns and hooves would not be good to his manhood. 

In his quest for new garments, Nasir had lost track of his companion in the crowd but he did not mind. Agron probably had things to do, and Nasir refused to see both of them chained to one another. They were as free lovers as jealous hearts allowed it. He kept strolling around the port, desperately trying to choose between soft bright colored fabrics, hailing people he knew, ignoring those who disregarded his foreign appearance. During the last two years, he and Agron had had to admit not all Gauls were bad. Gallia had its share of bastards, just as any other country, but remained a nice place yet untouched by Roman hands. 

Nasir was about to pick a nice sand colored piece of linen when he suspended his moves, attention caught by a familiar smell. He paused, inhaled deeply, eyes closing without intent. In a moment shivers ran under his skin and tears threatened to roll on his cheeks. The smell of a rich hearty stew. The kitchen’s fragrance, intoxicating. Mother squatting to lower the spoon to his lips. The taste of lamb and spices on his tongue, and his own little voice begging for more of this delight as her pure laugh resonated in the room. Nasir felt like he was about to cry right there, in the middle of the crowd. He quickly brushed fingertips to his eyelids, swallowed the boulder heavying his throat and turned towards the smell. A new merchant was exhibiting spices. Brown skin, black rimmed eyes and a charming smile that proved his prices were far too high, and yet Nasir could not help walking to him, all will to find new clothes chased by delicious memories. Perhaps would he have to remain naked a bit longer at home, but he would also let Agron taste his mother's stew, and that was more than the German had bargained for. 

Within a few minutes, Nasir's purse was relieved from coins and filled with fragrant spices: cumin, cinnamon, cardamom, pepper, and even a tiny bit of saffron. With the herbs he could find on the hill, and after checking he still had some lamb left from that trade with one of their neighbours, he could let Agron taste an authentic Syrian meal --well, another than himself, oh how he could predict his lover's indecent jokes before he even voiced them! 

Nasir saluted the merchant who promised his spices were so exquisite they would meet again soon, then turned around, ready to leave the market to find his dearest companion, when he heard a loud gasp on his left. 

“Oh!” familiar voice exclaimed. “My eyes, my eyes!” 

Nasir raised an eyebrow as Agron looked at him, feigning awe, a hand clutching his own chest like an old man having a stroke. The German grinned and kept his act, “Dark haired beauty, do you have a name? I am but blinded by such precious sight!” 

Nasir felt himself blush and shook his head with an embarrassed smirk. “What is going on with you, you fool?” 

He was used to Agron's charming attentions but never before had his companion praised him so loud in front of such a wide audience. They used to compliment each other in a gladiator's way in front of their men during the rebellion, they never chose to hide their feelings for they had no shame in them, and they exposed their affection, yet never in such manner. Especially not acting like strangers to one another. 

“A name, gorgeous eyes, I desire just a name to fill my dreams!” Agron insisted, drawing attention to them. 

The Syrian's long lashes fluttered and he smiled before walking away, “Name's Nasir. Cease your madness…” 

“Nasir…” Agron repeated with emphatic tone, like he had been offered a godly revelation. His arms rose, palms turned towards the sky. He then placed them on his chest as if his heart were too heavy to carry. “Nasir!” 

Nasir shook his head as he quickly fled from the scene of his lover's act but Agron followed him, swiftly avoiding bystanders, and kept trying to reach for his hand or his arm, touch gentle, like a beggar of love.

“Nasir, with such beauty and grace I gather that women must spread thighs at your sight, am I wrong?” the German asked loud enough for everyone around to hear. “Any lady you desire must be naked before you even ask!” 

Nasir looked away, noticing the approving gaze of a young woman over his form. His lover's foolish game sounded endearing but was not that much to his liking. 

“Lucky the wife who bonded with you, she is truly blessed!” Agron added like a tribune introducing the games in the arena.

As his companion's voice had raised once more to a louder level, Nasir surrendered with a sigh. He shrugged, “I do not favour the company of women. Now if you'll let me go…”

“Oh!” Agron blinked with a smile. His body started moving differently, slower, more feline looking. “No wife? A husband perhaps then?” 

Nasir took a step towards Agron, brushed fingers over the hollow of his collarbone. “I do have a husband indeed…” 

He noticed the spark in Agron's eyes, the possessive, loving flash of passion. They were not legally wed but by all means knew they belonged to each other, further proof not needed. 

“Alas, he is very sick,” Nasir announced with the grieving look of faithful widow. Agron’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead and he blinked in confusion, while people gathered around them to follow the exciting new installment in their story. “My beloved husband suffers from chronic jealousy…”

He reached for Agron's mouth with his fingers but removed them before he could touch, as Agron leaned forward for nothing. “... and attractive strangers in the streets are a threat he warned me against. I would not unleash his rage upon this city.” 

This time Agron couldn't help a chuckle, raising towards his lover a guilty look, then shrugged. “Ah… if the man’s love is like shackles to you then he does not deserve treasure such as you to share his life.” 

Nasir shrugged to demonstrate that the heart desires what it desires, adjusted the purse at his belt and started to walk towards the exit of the port, suddenly too crowded to his liking. Agron's little game was touching, yet Nasir was not certain he understood its rules nor its intent. In the corner of his eye he saw Agron leaning against a table full of fruits, finger pointed towards him, speaking loud to the merchant.

“See this man, here? This eastern beauty? I shall make him fall in love with me, and then I will wed him. Mark my words. I will wed him.” 

Had Agron been too generous with wine, it could have been believed that he genuinely did not recognize Nasir at all but this was not the case. It was only a show, a silly game. Nasir climbed on his horse that had been so patiently waiting on the edge of the market. He looked for his companion in the crowd, asked him with a sign of the hand if he would join him now and stop his nonsense, but Agron made him understand he could go if he wanted to, for he had other business to attend. 

Moments later as Nasir trotted out of the city walls, ready to join the path to the hill and their home, he felt his horse relax as they heard another galloping sound. He did not need to give a quick glance to recognize his lover's quick pace. The road was still filled with people, merchants and slaves bringing goods from the farms on the hill, a handful of soldiers too. Enough audience for Agron to continue his play.

“Eastern boy!” he exclaimed as he stopped by Nasir's side and decided to match his stride. “What leads you out of the city? Do you own a farm up there? Perhaps would you like some company for the ride? Or someone to help you with unpleasant tasks?”

Nasir chuckled, slightly shaking his head. “Offering to clean goat shit for me is the epitome of your courteousness.” 

Agron nodded with a laugh, then brushed his fingers on Nasir's toned arms. Now that they spent most of their time outside, in plain sight, his skin was much darker, the contrast between their complexion growing stronger, a fact they both enjoyed beyond reason. Fingertips followed the pattern of old and recent scars like a blind man would try to examine an item. 

“You bear the marks of many lives already, beautiful man. You stand a warrior, aren't you? I can feel bravery and strength of the heart on your skin.” He added, nodding towards a farmer who was walking down the path. “Now this is a man I would feel safe with! What a great catch! I will make him fall in love with me, or die trying.” 

The older man shook his head, rolling his eyes, used to Agron's silly jokes. Nasir urged his horse to trot faster to finally get out of the city for good and let Agron's praises fade absent audience. He could not lie, the gentle words he found charming but he was not fond of the attention drawn to them. Even though he enjoyed that his companion renewed his warm vows in front of everyone, and he enjoyed the courting.

“Both my husband and I are warriors,” he teased. “I am afraid for you if you attempt to break bond.”

“You seem to make a great deal of this husband of yours,” Agron smiled. 

Nasir shook head with a fond smile. How could he not? He stared at Agron, loving the sight of his companion. Now that they had settled in their comfortable life, Agron did not groom himself as a gladiator anymore, and Nasir loved his slightly longer hair and thicker short beard that failed to hide the tempting hollows in his cheeks. 

“He proved on many occasions that he was ready to sacrifice everything for me,” Nasir enumerated. “His touch is gentle and his words kind, his face is handsome and he warmth my bed like no other… he is faithful and brave, loving and caring. This man is my freedom, there's nothing not to love about him.”

“I bet he's some shit from East of Rhine who does not voice his affection out loud like he should!” Agron retorted with a grin. “He does not deserve you!”

Nasir held reins firmly and stated before he urged his horse to run towards the hill, “Perhaps, yet I am the only one suited to tell what I deserve!” 

And he rushed on the path to stop his lover's tender games and find back the comfort of his home, and tender embrace.

.

They joined their farm as the sun reached its peak, right on time for a good midday nap. On this side of the hill, close to its only source, a few of their rebel companions had established their housing. They saluted Laeta and Sybil who shared their little farm with anyone who sought refuge. 

Agron announced, “Women, I fell in love with the purest beauty on the port. Do you happen to know where he lives? Bronze skin, dark hair, brown eyes like roasted chestnuts?” 

“Why does every word falling from mouth makes it sound like you want to devour me?” Nasir grunted as he dismounted, their friendly neighbors laughing in unison.

Nasir's question was purely rhetorical for he knew the answer all too well. He set his horse free so that he could roam around the fields and quickly checked on the goats before walking to their small house. It was a modest farm, far from the richesses of the villas they used to live in as slaves, but it was theirs, and they were proud to call it home. They were free to occupy space as much as they wanted, and every ustensil, every piece of furniture they owned came from hard work and well earned coin. Nasir sorted spices by the fire and pulled his biggest pot from under a table. 

“What are you doing?” Agron asked, for he often was in charge of their meals. 

Nasir explained as he put a good amount of fat in the pot, “I found spices at the market. A Syrian merchant was offering them and I could not resist. Tonight you'll get to taste my mother's stew, it was a thing from heaven.” 

Agron remained silent for a moment, genuinely surprised. They were both used to Roman and other kinds of northern food, making the best of what they found. He observed as Nasir cut some vegetables and a good portion of lamb meat, then coated them in olive oil and fragrant powders. 

“Here,” Nasir smiled as he held his soiled hands for his lover to smell. “These are the treasures of my homeland.” 

Agron inhaled deeply, eyes closing, a dreamy smile upon lips. “Had I not known Ashur the traitor, I would have thought Syria was heaven on Earth. Did everything you mother cooked smell so fucking divine?” 

“For the Romans, she cooked what Dominus and his wife asked for,” Nasir shrugged, rubbing his hands on the food not to waste a drop of precious nectar. “But sometimes she could save some ingredients for me and the other slaves’ children in the villa and make us special meals. These were my favorites.” 

Agron bit his lower lip, tried to choose which joke he would tell about his mother making him the tastiest meals of all, but decided to save them for another day. Not when Nasir was so kindly sharing a part of his culture with him. He knelt in silence on the cot on the other side of the room, watched his lover's precise hands slice fresh garlic and onions. The house already smelled like a feast. 

“I thought you intended to buy new clothes today?” he asked again, elbows on his knees. 

Nasir shrugged, “I found spices instead and had to make a choice. We'll get new clothes when the next batch of cheese will be dried.” 

Agron caught his quick glance and smirked. “My almost naked husband feeding me? How did you know of my wildest dreams?” 

Nasir laughed this time, having predicted his companion's reaction right. After adding a bone in the stew for more taste, he checked on the fire, placed the pot at the right distance to cook the meat for a few hours without burning it, then rinsed his hands in a bucket of water and joined his lover on the cot. A warm embrace welcomed him, and a yawn.

They tired much more easily now. They used to be able to fight for hours, stamina fed by their rage and desire for vengeance and blood, yet nowadays they happily took naps and enjoyed a slower rhythm during their days. A young goat trotted inside the house and started chewing on Agron's winter cloak before the German threw it a rock, growling to scare it away but not touching it on purpose for he could not bear to hurt his little protégées. Nasir always was the one to hold the knife when they needed fresh meat.

Nasir brushed his nose on his friend's cheek, his temple, his forehead. “What was this morning about, my heart? You gave quite a show at the port.” 

Embarrassed, Agron looked away, arms holding Nasir tighter. He sighed, searched for his words for a moment. Although they were only lightened by a small lamp, the pink shade of his cheeks was still visible, as well as his sorry smile. 

Eventually, he whispered, “This is what you liked about him, right?” 

Nasir did not need more than a breath to understand his meaning but kept his words to himself. 

Agron added, “Castus. This is what you liked about him, how he spoke of you, the praises, the attempt to seduce you in public. This is something I have never done. We… we found each other, we decided to fuck our way out of this life together, we gave each other our hearts and souls, but never did I properly court you. And I just now realize you might have needed it.” 

Nasir laid on his back, an arm raised above his head, lost in thoughts. He could not pretend Agron was wrong, for he was not. Yes, Castus had been the first man who showed interest in a respectful way. He had courted him, demonstrated attraction without ever violating consent. Nasir had felt wanted, desired but not owned or possessed. 

“German sorcerer uses his northern magic on me, reading thoughts?” Nasir smiled to hide embarrassment. He ran a hand behind Agron's neck, pulled him to silence him with a kiss. “My fleeting attraction for another man never set my love for you aside. Yes, seduction attempts were well received but never could they have made me leave your arms. Your possessivity has hurt me sometimes...”

“And you have been quite clear voicing your anger,” Agron recalled with a pout. 

“... and yes, his attraction made me feel desired. Precious. Like I had a worth that was not a mere handful of coins passing from master's hand to slaver. But as much as I loved his attentions, I never acted upon them for I willingly belonged to you, only you.” 

Agron brushed his lips on Nasir's, offering the ghost of a kiss. “I know you did not, and I was a fool to ever mistrust such loving husband. Yet that does not mean I should not try my best to make you happy. You are my whole world, and I tend to take you for granted sometimes. But I don't own you, and if I want you to stay by my side, I should try to win your heart more often.” 

Nasir rolled onto his side, placed his knee on his lover's thigh. “Heart is yours, my warrior. Mind and body as well…”

Nasir tried to kiss Agron's throat to make intentions clear but the German gently pushed him and got up to escape his sweet embrace. He walked to his purse from which he took a small object, then returned, looking hesitant and unsure. Nasir knelt to be at his level.

“What is on your mind?”

Agron shifted on his knees, hands curled around some mysterious treasure. “I-- hm… this very day, three years ago, we shared our first kiss. I would have never hoped back then to live such a fulfilling life by your side. I wanted to… mark the date?” 

And he opened his hands to show five little jewels resting in his palm. Tiny copper tubes and cuffs that would stand out beautifully on his lover’s dark hair. Nasir placed his palm over them with a touched smile. 

“My big German bear, so sentimental…” he teased but could not prevent smile from widening and tears from making his eyes shine even more. 

“The merchant had bracelets and other much bigger, much more precious jewelry yet I did not want you to feel collared or cuffed. I figured jewels to hold your hair would be more to your liking,” Agron explained, a shy smile on his so expressive face. 

Nasir placed his forehead against Agron’s, lost in his intense loving gaze. “This, here, is why I could never have loved another as much as I loved you. Because you're a fool, an impulsive idiot who would rather kill and get killed than think for a moment if I were hurt… but you know me better than anyone. And you care, you really care.” 

Relieved to see his gift much appreciated, Agron embraced his lover, holding him tight against his chest. Their lips found each other in a tender kiss, Agron's fingers already combing through Nasir's hair, delighting in the smell of spices mixed with their own. 

.

Hands got braver, kisses deeper, embrace warmer, and once again the intensity of their passion ripped the skies open. Or so Agron thought as he laid on his back, unable to move after Nasir had honored him like a god, comforted by the sound of heavy rain. 

“How can you… stand already?” he whimpered, looking at his lover’s frantic rummage through their home. 

Nasir quickly tasted the stew, still naked and glistening with sweat, had a content nod for it met expectations. He then picked his favorite soap, the one they made themselves from goat fat and ashes, two combs, as well as his razor. 

He said, voice covered by the clash of thunder, “I will use this opportunity to wash my hair, then I can wear your baids. Would you like to help me?” 

“I would not,” Agron mumbled with a pout. He would not for he'd rather lay there and savor the memories of Nasir's body above him. He would not and yet, as soon as he saw his husband get out under the pouring rain to get his mane cleaned, Agron could not help but jump to his feet and follow. 

They quickly washed themselves from sweat and semen, then Nasir leaned into him as Agron picked the soap and started to tame long locks with his fingers.

“Three years?” Nasir mused, finally slowing down under Agron's touch after spending so much energy in their bed. “Feels like the skies are honoring the Bringer of Rain who led us to each other.” 

Agron nodded with a hum, heart still aching when he remembered their savior's end. The Norns were cruel players of a tragic game whose rules were only known from them. Agron felt a rush of gratitude flow through his body; being able to stand under pouring rain, fingers now capable of threading and combing his lover's luxurious hair. No one to control them, to tell them what to do, what to eat, whom to love. He was blessed beyond measure. 

Agron took his time for the rain was warm and pleasant. He gently turned Nasir around, started to coat the lower part of his face with soap, hands enjoying every second of the process. He still remembered that first time he had felt ready to shave him again, after recovering from his injuries, and betraying fingers had slipped, cutting Nasir's skin. Nasir had laughed it off but Agron had hated himself for months. Fingertips brushed the faint scar, thin white line over tanned skin. 

Nasir raised an eyebrow, meaning he did not want to hear about this episode, not again. Agron promised with a silent nod he would not speak of it. Steadying his breath, the German started running the sharp blade across his lover's perfect jawline. Nasir's eyes closed and his lips opened on a silent sigh. Devotion and trust shone on his relaxed face. He let Agron touch him in ways no one could ever hope to. Because it was him. Because he cared. The wild puppy had turned into a faithful wolf between loving hands. And even though Agron had fucked up so many things in his life, his relationship with Nasir he had not. Perhaps his only success, a glorious one.

Agron let the moment stretch, carefully shaving his chin, the chiseled planes of his cheeks, his upper lip, every detail of the gorgeous face imprinting in his memory. When he was eventually done, stroking his thumbs all over his lover's throat to clean him from soap, he was soaked by the rain. 

“I would have you sit inside the house to braid you,” Agron asked. 

Nasir blinked like he was pulled from a pleasant dream. “Agreed...” 

They walked to the farm where a couple of goatlets had sought refuge instead of joining the rest of the herd in their little stone house. Nasir motioned to evacuate them but Agron gave him a pleading look.

“They are so young! Merely children! Let them stay warm with us. They might get sick outside.” 

Nasir shook his head with an exasperated look. He ought not to remind Agron of the nature of their supper. As Agron carefully dried the little creatures and offered them some milk on a plate, Nasir added wood to their fire and twisted his hair tightly to let excess of water drop to the floor. 

They both settled on their cot by the fireplace. Once doors were closed and windows shut, the small room offered enough warmth for them to remain naked. Nasir had to wait until both goatlets had had their share of petting to get Agron's attention, at last. 

When he started combing long dark hair to separate strands, Agron let out a fond, “I love you so much…”

“I think I know that,” Nasir chuckled. “The whole city heard it today.” 

“You are right, my love,” Agron admitted like he was at fault. “I failed to let the whole world know. I shall remedy to that later.” 

And he kissed Nasir's shoulder as they both laughed. Despite his reluctant words, Nasir had accepted both babies in his lap and was now petting their warm fur. Fine, these two would have a long and comfortable life by their side, they would get meat another way. 

Agron’s fingers were nimble like spider's legs threading a web as he pulled and twisted strands to form five braids. He tried to find a pattern that complimented his companion's face, tied the locks then added the cuffs and tubes he had bought earlier. 

“There…” he whispered, handing their small mirror to Nasir. 

“Fuck. I look like spoiled wife to a wealthy husband!” Nasir joked to hide his emotion. He loved the gift and thoughts that came with it. 

Agron ran his hand once again through the thick mane. “You know… if you ever grow tired of wearing your hair long and free down your back, I could tie them in a [suebian knot](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suebian_knot) for you.” 

Nasir turned around, blinking slowly. He looked stunned by the offer, happy to be promised such honor.

“Would you do that for me?” he asked with a shy smile. “Am I worthy of Germanic warriors hairstyle?”

“You are worth a thousand Germans, Nasir,” Agron purred as he took him in his arms and held him to his chest. “I would miss playing with it but sharing this tradition with you would be my greatest pleasure!” 

“I shall think about it,” Nasir promised before he added, fingertips tracing patterns on his lover's warm skin, “You do miss your land a lot, my love. Do you want us to travel to the Rhine eventually?” 

Agron’s gaze lingered on the dancing flames. He took a moment to think, something that was rare enough to be noted, then replied, “I do not know what the future holds for us. I would like to visit the Germans once, but I also want to live a long and fulfilling life by your side. We could also travel to Syria. Both are fine with me as long as I’m with you. Shall war break out one day in Gallia then we’ll move on. I do not wish to pick up swords again.” 

“I feel the same,” Nasir nodded. “Peace sounds good to me. And if those Roman shits end up all over the Middle Sea, we could still travel down the silk road, to the other side of the Earth. Meet new people and cultures. We shall be two old men in love, a Syrian wearing suebian knot and a handsome German with black rimmed eyes like men of my desert do.” 

“I like your way of thinking, my heart, and growing old with you is a dream, but Romans all over Gallia?” Agron laughed, burying his face in the crook of Nasir’s neck, “I would like to see them try! Those fuckin’ Gauls are so stubborn, I hardly think it could happen!”


End file.
